Tempest Delivered
by LunaLovegoss
Summary: H.G. has been living a lie & upon discovery is thrust back into time. Cursed with powers she'd rather not have- she is seemingly destined to finish what Harry started. Entangled in fulfilling a old familial oath- she must join forces w/ the house of Black to free herself from the curse. AU after BOH/ B7. HP is dead. Eventual SB/HG pairing. Mature content. Sequel to Tempus Fugit.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: HP Universe belongs to JK Rowling. I own nothing - I am simply expressing over here :)**

**AN:**

**This story is a later sequel to my, in progress story Tempus Fugit. I am not quite sure how JK Rowling managing to write in order but my**

**common practice involves pecking all over the place until I get a full picture.**

**If you haven't read Tempest Fugit, and you are into this story, you might consider reading it. Otherwise you might feel confused by certain**

**concepts as I introduce them.**

**Otherwise for the sake of understanding- at this point in my story Hermione Granger has been speared by her own sword. The Battle of**

**Hogwarts has happened, and Harry Potter is dead. Hermione is cursed with powers she can't grasp yet. My story while AU in nature- is very true to **

**Hermione from the stories- but ****understand that she is living alternate lives that Harry knows nothing about.**

**Finally, Narcissa is a big player in my story in both timeline, as are many in the house of Black. This has a slow burn SB eventual path. **

**Enjoy! -Luna**

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**Hogwarts Great Hall: Narcissa Malfoy: July 12, 1999**

The girls sobs could be felt by everyone in the room. Her unique magic darkening for all to behold. It had taken nearly a month to break herfully, but now- no one

could deny the hard evidence laid before them.

The dark lord watched in an unmasked, maniacal glee. She would be his-it was only a matter of hours now. Narcissa watched on pitying, as Granger tried to put the

Weasley back together, his blood, pooling all around them- staining the stones, a perfect picture of tragedy.

Her son was equally frozen in place by the spectacle. His face drawn open, lost of any remaining hope. He'd fallen to his knees- his wand at his side. His own spell- the

killing curse- still hanging in the air. He'd given the young lovers mercy. He'd stopped the torture with his one spell. The Dark Lard had descending on the body then.

Dismantling it so fully, that believing the young wizard could be alive again seemed futile. Narcissa sucked in her breath at the sight of the young lovers, before

turning her attention to her son Draco, he was her only reason for living. If it weren't for him she have taken measures to join her late husband. As it were- she was

now a pawn in her masters game.

For Draco, she realized, the stark reality of their situation had grown all the clearer in the past hour. The Dark Lord didn't care about blood purity. He cared about

power. He cared about his blood, and the blood that bettered his own. His own life was the pinnacle of all.

"Draco," Narcissa managed coming to his side and setting her hand on his shoulder. She was largely pregnant now, so it took some work to pull him up. His eyes

found her stomach, and his sneer was quick to form, as he watched it move and shift under the weight of the cursed girls emotions. The abomination in her womb had

only made the rift between her, and her most treasured possession, her son, grow wider. Narcissa felt the hate deep within her soul for the devil she referred to as

master. Her own sons love- was being twisted and taken from her by the man her husband had chosen to follow.

"Ready the Mudblood- and your son," The Dark Lord commanded bringing her from her thoughts.

"Yes, my lord," she bowed with effort.

"Krum," the Dark Lord barked, regarding the boy curiously. He was the only follower to arrive in his mask and robes. Privately, Narcissa wondered at what his face

looked like now. Was he frightened? Fascinated? Something was off together with him- but she had yet to understand the root of him.

"Yes my lord," she heard him reply. He visually shook himself from a supposed stupor. Narcissa knew then, he was waiting for something further in watching her,

though she hadn't any idea of his hand in it.

Quite suddenly- Granger gasped, and an unnatural silence filled the room like the calm before the storm. Quite as suddenly as the change had come over her, her

head wrenched to the left, and as it did magic lifted her up and pressed her mentally and physically into the motivations of the boys turning point. Tenetur in

Sempiternum. The boy laying in pieces at her side had bound himself to her- forever bound. Now death had come to claim her along side him.

"Viktor," Hermione called out her late husbands own words, eyes on an empty stretch of the hall. She was witnessing what he deemed his last moments. Her body

lifted up to the Weasleys's boys height leaving her feet to dangle in the midair.

"Who are your friends?" She asked her face scrunched up as though looking into the shadows. Her left hand twitched at her side, gripping an invisible wand. They

watched collectively then as her face expressed the words in response to what he had heard then. Words they'd never know. Words only Krum seemed to understand.

Suddenly she dodged right and them left and raised her invisible wand to her throat.

"Sonorus," she cast first before screaming, "Breach!" Her shout stopped all followers from their retreat and instead the Dark Lords followers watched in curiosity now-

witnessing what the Weasley had deemed his actual death. The true testament of how deeply he loved the witch now falling victim to the magic of their marital bond-

the loss of her from his memories. Hermione was soundly throttled- beaten for all to see. Beaten without mercy and still she fought back against the invisible

pursuant, fighting an attack that had happened almost a month earlier.

"Why are you doing this," she gasped out deliriously to the invisible Krum. "_You_\- who claimed to love her! Y_ou_ who have tried so hard to have her!" The room now

turned to look at Krum. Who noting his own danger withdrew a very simple looking book- and upon opening it and running his fingers down a page shifted from sight

without so much of a whisper.

The Dark Lords smirk dropped fast as water, and he was gapping like the rest of them before he composed himself again.

"Find him," he hissed out and the bodies of his followers moved into motion, like ants on a hill. All save Narcissa, and Draco, that was. For a moment the pair of

Malfoy's just watched in morbid curiosity as Hermione's memories were wiped from her head( Like his head had been wiped clean of her by Viktor,)and when she took

in the room again in fear and disgust, and confusion clear as day the dark lord let out the shout he'd been holding in, screaming out like an unhinged person.

Narcissa flinched and reached for Draco, who moved from her touch just as quickly. His eyes set on the betrayal growing in her womb-his half brother that would soon

replace the daughter Narcissa had lost him.

The Granger girl gasped once more and as though all the fight she had left had left her she sagged into a heap and began to smoke. Flames the size of lizards crawled

up her limbs and devoured her, Her body flaking away until she was nothing more then a pile of ashes. The three witnesses stood quite as a grave until the ashes

began to move and shake, shifting and changed to reveal the body of the girl whom had only just perished. Her naked form now sporting a gleaming ghostly band –

did she dare to breath again?

"Plans remain-," The dark lord said looking relieved. "Ready my bed chamber- and see to it she is cleansed. Draco you will be ready as

well."

"Yes my lord, the Malfoy's said succinct.

"You have exactly one hour."

"Yes my lord," they said again. With one last look at his prize, Voldemort swept from the room in a wisp of smoke and swirling robes. For a moment, mother and son

only watched the place he'd just stood without moving.

Then a tall and thin cloaked man entered the room. He walking up to their side as though nothing surprised him. Then he removed his own mask. "No time like the

present, is there?" His head dropped to the side at the sight of the pair on the floor before him. One clearly dead- on just clearly wishing she was.

"Rookwood?" Draco questioned.

"Son, fill these vials with her blood." Narcissa interrupted his thoughts, handled him the vials. And while questions filed his features he complied quickly.

"Do you have the dagger," she asked her senior.

"It is safe, and begging for blood," Rookwood said producing the swirling steal, as lethal as the serpent it depicted- it's hilt set with an emerald the

size of her closed fist.

Draco standing now handed the vials to Rookwood who'd in turn handed the dagger to his mother. Comprehension seemingly dawning

on him. "No mother, I'll do it." Narcissa sent him with a sad sort of smile. Draco would never understand what she had to do then,

but it didn't matter so long as she succeeded. If then, he'd never need to experience the life he'd live. He'd never grow up the way he'd

had to.

Rookwood moved to dress the girl, a plain but dated white dress and a pendant necklace. He straightened in compulsively before he was satisfied, and before he stood

he cut a lock of her hair.

Two women walked into the room then. One was wearing a gown to match Hermione's and one Narcissa's. Rookwood took out two flasks then and dropping

Hermione's hair into one handed it to the girl in her shared robe. The other was first passed to Narcissa for her own sample. In the following moments the new women

resembled the others exactly.

"Soon this will all be over son," Narcissa whispered to Draco taking his hand again. They watched with joined hands as Rookwood mimicked the marital bond by magic

onto the fake Hermione.

Narcissa turned to her own clone, "Prepare the chamber as discussed. The enchantments must be complete exactly as described. You have 90 minutes from this

moment- _I must be the last Black to die_."

Draco's face set in grim understanding. And she pulled him into a forceful hug. "We join your father tonight love- and this child shall

never come to pass."

"What are you doing with her?"

"Sending her to fulfill her destiny." Draco's eyes flitted over the brand on Hermione's hand, visible between the glowing band and his aunts tidy scrawl. Narcissa gave

him a humoring smirk, "Muggleborn girl turned out to be the perfect disguise."

"It was her own device," Rookwood said admiring her- his hands tracing her chin then smoothing out an errant curl. The fascination for her- undeniable.

Narcissa looked now on her son, drinking him in like she'd never have another chance to. "Never doubt – I loved you and always will." Draco's eyes watered up as he

nodded unable to speak just then. The two women now sprung into action. His mothers clone raising her counterpart by spell- and the latter playing drowsy and weak.

"Come Draco," she drawled in a perfect impersonation of his mother.

"I love you too mom," Draco said as he turned and departed after the duo. Narcissa stifled a sob. Rookwood moved to hold her briefly, then pulled a cloak over top of her.

"We must away," he said. "Of course," Narcissa said looking around the hall. She'd grown up in these walls and now she would ensure her sons future anew. She

walked to catch up to Rookwood already moving along with purpose, the girl hidden from sight under a cloak of invisibility.

At the edge of the wards, they disaperated with a crack.

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**Hope you enjoy- please review!**

**Thanks- Luna**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 – Tempest Delivered

A**N:**

**The prologue will make sense in a few more chapters, but I hope you enjoyed. As I said this is part of a longer story I've been writing for a long while. **

**Blakeley and Poe have just come onto young Hermiones radar where I left off in Tempus Fugit- so I feel like getting some of these chapters out will help me finish my first story ****J**

**I hope you enjoy and please review if possible!**

**Thanks!**

Midnight: July 31st, 1977 Unplotted: The Grounds of Blakeley & Poe

The lights went out at the house of Poe quite suddenly, and as they did Thaddeus Poe felt with sureness that the wards had been breeched. On tired limbs he took up his wand and cast, "Lumos". Behind the ball of light he ambled out of the decaying manor until he was standing on it's front porch.

Minutes past before he saw the tips of the Blakeley wands as well.

"Did you feel it?" He shouted- though he knew his closest neighbor was near deaf.

"Blast it all," he grumbled to himself already launching himself down his front stairs. It was good that it was summer in the very least though there was something mysterious in the air- something that bit and gnawed at him, causing him to tremble.

The foursome congregated in the space between houses, and when all four wands were held out before them, it casting light on their faces and creating shadows all around them- He was sure they all felt as he did, for their hair stood at end and their faces were similarly pinched.

"Someone's breached the wards!" Cadmus Blakeley shouted.

"That's what I said!" Thaddeus Poe snapped back all the while shaking his head.

"Feels like the far stretch," Brinley Blakeley said scratching his chin- his smock covered in blood.

"Evening alone I see?" Poe said- a tinge of jealously in his tone.

"Another player in our game." His younger brother Bowan answered for them both. He was equally decorated.

"Ask and we deliver." Brinley smirked.

"Friend or Foe?" Thaddeus questioned.

"We've not given access." Brinley replied. "No one could have penetrated the wards without permission or blood." His eyes flitted up to the full moon. "Human or not."

"The far stretch is North end though," Cadmus commented. "Nothing but skeletons there."

Something stirred in Poe at the thought. Something large enough to intrigue him and make him feel uneasy. Cadmus, his contemporary, by the look of him felt similarly.

"Anything alive in the shop?" Cadmus asked his sons.

"One." Brinley said.

"Barely," Bowan laughingly added.

"Put it away for later- it may come in handy." Cadmus instructed. "Brinley head for the far stretch when it's stowed. Bowan you're on clean up- hide any evidence and stay quiet- all we need is Aurors swarming the place."

The boys nodded to the orders and the elder pair headed for the Far stretch together. The graveyard had gone unused for at least 2 centuries now- but it would always be a point of interest for visitors. For the it was the stuff of stories now- the start and stop of their shared legacy. A place called the bridal patch.

Nowadays woman had more rights- more so then in the good old days. But for a long while- headstrong daughters learnt to follow orders under the wands of a Blakeley- and should they resist they were introduced to Poe.

"I feel anxious," Blakeley said conversationally.

"I feel scared." Poe responded.

They were quiet as they marched along for minutes.

"Were you scared before the breach?" Blakeley questioned him.

"No- were you anxious?" Cadmus volleyed.

"Not in the slightest." Blakeley confirmed.

As they neared the plot- a scream shattered the silence. It pierced through the night again and again as though someone was being stabbed then suddenly the screams stopped.

"Female," Cadmus whispered.

"Delicious." Thaddeus returned smiling. "Escapee?"

"No one escapes and you know well as I no ones been grounded for centuries." Cadmus hissed.

"New comer then?" Thaddeus.

"In the patch? How peculiar." Cadmus.

"A banshee then?" Brinley huffed having run to catch up to them.

"What ever she is- she's alive- I feel her heart beating." Cadmus said in a merry tone.

"She'll be sorry she came this way." Brinley chuckled.

"Hello!" Thaddeus shouted out to the night.

"Help! Please!" Came her cry back to them. They held their wands up in unison- and in the light she appeared at the edge of their vision. Staggering, and falling, crawling and stumbling. She was clothed in all white- though it seemed to be stained in blood of dirt, and her dark hair flew about her pale face.

Thaddeus was struck by the oddity then. A girl coming from the far stretch. Alone, and seemingly from the ground itself. It seemed improbable.

"Go to her," Cadmus said gripping Brinley by the shoulder, "Go play hero." Brinley grinned largely and took off at a run.

"It's almost as though…" Cadmus began.

"A bride?" Thaddeus chuckled now. "It's not possible."

"It's unlikely- but there are surely those who never… ripened." Cadmus.

"Barking." Thaddeus.

The girls screams fell silent as Brinley reached her, and when he returned to their side she was clearly unconscious and draped in his arms. Brinley was grinning too- and clutching at the necklace around her thin neck- it was their brand- both sides… theirs!

"It can't be." Cadmus said at once.

"The lost bride!" Brinley half shouted.

"We'll examine her back at the house- and examine the grounds in full light," Thaddeus said eyes tracing her features. They weren't outside the norm for their family- though they hadn't birthed a girl now for nearly a millennium. Not since the curse…

The girl sprung awake defensively when innervated- then fell weak again. Her whiskey brown eyes searched them as though seeking answers.

Bowan exploited her weakness by stripping her blood soaked robes almost immediately, and it was clear the blood hadn't come from her.

She crawled backwards colliding with a wall and Bowan grinned as he closed in the space between them- her body barred for their enjoyment. "Please- please- stop." Her words were spoken in a frantic but fluent French, their own native tongue. And upon her left hand, just under the wrist- there appeared to be a brand.

"I want to see her hand." He said to Bowan. "Brinley fetch the branding stick."

Cadmus ambled forward as Bowan restrained her, and she squirmed fiercely against him.

The girl was a story of scars and when he tried at first to grip her chin she nearly bit him. Bowan back handed her swiftly and in a shocked stupor Cadmus was able to grip her chin and forced her face up towards his own.

"What's your name?" He asked in French (his own native tongue).

She let out a whimper. "I don't… I can't… I can't remember."

Cadmus let her go and exchanged a look with his son who grinned like he'd won a prize.

"Try a command," Thaddeus said from behind them- still conflicted by the thought that she could be a bride.

"Touch yourself." Bowan ordered.

Cadmus sighed and clutched his temple. "If she is a bride… more specifically _the bride_… it'll be Tu Jur Pur first."

At the phrase the girl stiffened up and froze all together, and for a moment the three men looked at each other in victory.

Hera Blakeley we meet at last," Bowan said pulling her to himself, his hands roaming her barred body in an greedy manner- she was saved temporarily by the re-entry of Brinley, who handed the branding pole to his father.

"On your knees- Tu-Jur-Pur." He instructed and from the arms of his youngest son she fell to her knees in compliance. Bowan gripped her shoulders as Cadmus pressed the brand to her chest, just below the clavicle.

To anyone other then blood it would do nothing- but a Blakeley would be marked for life.

The girl screamed out- and smoke rose from the sight- and when lifted a brand stood fresh on her skin to match the one on her hand. Seemly released from the spell she fumbled backwards again gripping at her chest to shield it from further damage- looking confused as to how it could have happened.

The four men laughed as Bowan resumed her perusal of her form. It was her! By their blood- the curse was broken!

**Thanks for reading- please review!**

**3-Luna**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **

**Thanks so much for the follows and favs!****J**** It's so nice to know people are enjoying something I'm producing!**

**I really NEED this outlet lately- so even if no one actively talks or reviews- it's still so great to know you are hearing me! And I hear it with likes and follows just as well as an actual review!**

**Anyways;**

**If there is any confusion at this point, Hermione Granger has been sent back in time by Narcissa Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood (Death Eater, Dept. of Mysteries member) to 1977- and she's lost her memories temporarily due to the spell she's willingly part taken in, ****_Tenetur in Sempiterum._**

**In Granger Speak:**

**Tenetur in Sempiterum**

**It ****_means _****forever bound.**

**The spell was created in ancient times, and widely used in Northern Africa, ****_Egypt specifically_****, It was further used in much of the Mediterranean areas as well. The spell, ****_and it's rather tricky_****, binds lovers magically- allowing the benefit of shared sentiments and emotions. **

**The spell creates visible marital rings of light around the lover's fingers, and it will represent as a golden glowing band when it's active.**

**It's supposed to represent the truest bond of love, allowed between partners- and literally allows a mental crutch in times of hardship. Furthermore, the spell can****_ only_**** be preformed by two who are truly in love, per this spell to work- there can be no mistaking- the love that exists, if the band shines on both persons.**

**…****_The detriment,_**** is why makes the Ministry of Magic deems it a classified ****_dark_**** magic spell. Once one lover dies…****_that glowing band of gold_**** turns ghostly white! And the life clock for their ****_living partner_**** begins to tick! Their expiration is imminent. They'll share in the same death- symbolic of their utterly deep (as the ocean-) affections. **

**Per this story, Hermione has entered into this union willingly with a WEASLEY. I'm leaving you hanging on which Weasley I mean. ****_Do consider_****\- I have killed Harry. Take what you will of that! Personally- I can't believe Hermione Granger would enter into this union spell unless her purpose was just and true and necessary. So gather from this note that Hermione's willingness to enter into this ****_utterly barbaric spell_**** has a lot to do with her strange ability (which you can read about in Tempest Fugit) that she is a Tempest- and further reasons you'll get from me eventually. ****J**

**Thanks for reading! Luna Lovegoss**

**Unplotted: Blakeley & Poe: Home of Bowan Blakeley : Formerly known as Blakeley & Poe's: House of the Dead : July 13****th****,1977. 3:30 am. / Bowan Blakeley**

_Hera_ had a lot of scars.

His father, and Poe had taken Hera under their control first. Call it- the benefits of age. _Age_, Bowan chuckled, also had the unfortunate capabilities of rendered certain activities useless. And thus, the elder pair had spent their time with Hera, being thoroughly impressed by the magic instilled in her to follow directions at their will.

Her body was a story that they devoured openly, discussed it, as though it was a theater act. They'd touched her, and explored her every mark, and every scar, speaking in eloquence all the while with the occasional finger slip and groping.

The ring was a problem. It had been discussed at length, (all the while she was draped extravagantly over Poe's knee or his fathers). From a family well versed in Dark Magic they didn't need a dictionary, or a picture, to spot it either. No. Make no mistake. _Tenetur in Sempiternum_, would be the thorn in their shoe.

The notable a band around her marriage finger- glowed blaringly white. While it could only be assumed, (having been thrust _forward_ in time like she had,) that the ring would showcase her lovers inevitable end in the interval, it still left a rather large grey shadow onto whether or not they could actually succeed using her to break the curse, (their magical imprisonment), in the right amount of time.

His elder brother had gone next. Brinkley's own mastery of Hera had been epic. Enjoyed by his father and Poe in the absence of their own abilities. The show ended, with Hera straddled atop his lap, his brothers cock deeply seated. It had been like clockwork- the spell effects ending as Brinkley's cock shrank from her warmth. When she'd come around mentally, she'd begun to cry. They'd all had a good laugh.

Bowan smiled at the thought, Hera had jumped back as though electrocuted! Her little tampered with brain connecting the dots. The humiliation that set into her face, and posture, upon understanding that _she_ had ridden him like a horse for the past hour…_just because Brinkley had asked her right! _

Bowan though it was justice. Hera had, after all, been punished for a reason. She'd ventured out from her families order and taken matters into her own hands. She'd tried to run away from the family, casting shadows for the sake of her own cunt! She deserved their malice. She deserved to be their slave! And with her they've have their revenge.

When the late hour had caught up with the others Hera had finally been passed to him. Bowan was the youngest so this was to be expected, even though he was the strongest of them all. He was further, notably brutal and rather punishing. That was also the root cause of why none lingered to watch his part in her.

However, it hadn't been a free-for-all. He'd been given firm instructions before they left. Do not kill her, or render her incapable of baby making. That left a lot in between though.

Bowan preferred to watch a woman's last breaths. He enjoyed the sensation of fucking a stiffening corpse. That she had to be left alive zapped some of the fun out of it. Still -she'd been worth it

Bowan snorted. He scratched at his groin at the thought of it. His own cum on the insides of his trousers was catching his public hair, and causing them to pull and rub all wrong.

Personally, Bowan wasn't much for playing master and slave. He preferred his women dead or dying. Complaint girls were nothing more then glorified house elfs. Bowan didn't want spelled compliance- he _wanted_ her to fight. He _wanted_ to terrorize her. There was _just something_ enticing about a crying, and beaten down woman! So, he hadn't used spells to force her.

_He had_ taken her forcibly though. _He had_ been enraptured while she screamed out for his mercy. _He had_ bitten her until tasting her blood when she attempted to defend herself with flailing limbs and nails.

The girl was unconscious was when he'd finished with her. It was likely the result of him choking her while he finished. The impression of his hands now cast a mark in the form of bruised flesh around her throat.

True to his nature, he'd dumped her into the cellars under the living room floor once he'd finished. True she had dropped nearly 12 feet and likely knocked her head on impact. True to his word to his family, he had not killed her. She was regrettable alive, and he'd not fucked up her baby box either.

He peered down at her from above, and grinned at the fun he'd had. Blood or not, it wasn't as though she was his sister. But here she'd come- fully programmed – pure as possible.

"Touch her and I'll kill you-" he said down at his latest guest. "I thought perhaps she should understand what happens if she disobeys me. Spells or not."

His guest didn't answer. He was likely unconscious too. He'd meant to kill before the girls entrance.

Bowan snorted again, then shut the trap door and latch.

He recovered it all with the carpet rolled neatly and set to the side. Then he used magic to clean up. While it had been nearly a decade since they've had visitors on a regular basis- he was also quite used to living without interruption.

It was crazy to consider freedom though. Leaving the grounds for the first time in his life. Walking amongst people- choosing his victims.

He shook his head grinning ear to ear in the gloriousness of it all. How the world must have changed since a Blakeley had been able to leave the grounds!

This pretty little bint was just a taste of what was coming to him!

Bowan flopped into his bed. A sturdy, grounded, ornately carved beast.

Why spare on expense when it was all you had going? Exotic things were shipped in just for them, and their use on the regular. But if you couldn't leave wouldn't you feel slightly mollified by having only the finest of things?

A scream erupted from the basement then.

Bowan grinned.

She'd met his pets.

**Next update should be fast ****J**** Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:**

**A couple quick explanations; I wrote Mrs. Granger as French, so Hermione can speak fluent French having been raised with it. Naturally she doesn't have an use for it at Hogwarts though. Narcissa speaks to her in French before preforming her ritual understanding this about her.**

**Hermione doesn't know who she is and thus trusts in this new identity- as the Blakele'ys seem certain of it too. Not to mention she did wake up in a casket in a totally unplottable location. **

**Blakeley & Poe Cellars/ Hermione Granger or Hera Blakeley?/ 3:30 am July 13****th**** 1977.**

The room was black as pitch when she woke. She wished for death in those first moments. Every part of her, hurt. Every part of her burned with shame over the past few hours. She needed to escape- she needed it like she needed air.

In the darkness, she raised her arm testing to make sure it still worked and sight of the ring of light around her marriage finger.

The spells they had used on her had made her comply to their every order- but it wasn't exactly like a blackout. It was more like- when the spell out timed and you had control again you felt betrayed by yourself.

She'd heard the things they said. Heard that this band represented a husband. It was insane to think she had a magical link to a man when she didn't know him- or anything about herself for the matter.

Was she really this runaway bride? Was she Hera Blakeley? Try as she might her thoughts were a complete blur. Of course she could remember everything about this band of terrors whom she'd run into hopes of Rescue. Having woken in a box- covered in blood from who even knows. The feeling that she was literally buried alive. She couldn't for the life of her remember anything prior.

Did her real father box her up for misbehavior? Had she broken an arranged marriage and run off to marry her very dead husband?

Shifting to the side made her feel instantly woozy, and her whole upper body shook with the effort of raising herself up onto her elbow. Her waist length hair slipped across her skin and she realized she was still undressed. She was also laying in dirt.

Oddly the thought of not being here alone, and naked and near dead appealed to her more then what she'd just lived through.

She was caught then- by the smell in the room, and she retched bodily. Even retching hurt her! Her eyes immediately welled up and she flipped fully onto her stomach. It was about the only place Bowan hadn't attacked.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust now, and something caught her eye in the darkness. Something, or things were moving around just out of sight. Slipping forward on her stomach like a injured seal pup she tried to get a closer look.

It seemed she was in some sort of underground cellar- and there were bars across the room dividing it neatly in half. "Bonjour?" she whispered feeling the hairs on her skin raise up. She retched again and tasted the bile in her mouth before retching again. "Bonjour," she whispered out again- reaching the bars at last.

"I wouldn't get any closer if I were you," came a mans whisper from behind her. The voice sounded tired- and devoid of all hope. She turned her head in the direction of it and startled.

Eyes growing better accustomed to the dark suddenly it wasn't him she noticed so much as the smell of his blood. The smell of his life. It was a weird thing to be thinking- but suddenly as she took in the crumpled looking man the more aware she was of the fingers were now brushing up against her skin. Brushing up, and pulling at her hair.

She screamed as she took them in. She choked and gagged again, this time on the reality of what the mystery smell was. Decaying corpses, real life, rotting flesh, floating above the ground by inches! Their dead arms reaching out towards her like zombies.

She was puking up all she hadn't realized she had in her then- right onto one of them. It was only going to make the room smell better. Another strange thought.

The bleeding man closed on her ankle then and pulled her back towards him. She screamed out again, kicking at him. When her ankle was freed she slide to put a distance from his and the dead. She was grateful for the bars at least.

"Screaming only makes them worst." He said. She watched in horror as they reached for her as though they'd gotten her into their sights for good.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head, and instinctively curled up- still feeling the hands of the others on her, still feeling disgusting and wrong.

"It's not your fault. What they did to you up there."

Hera was glad for the darkness, glad he couldn't see her face or her lips quivering. The tears that hadn't yet stopped since arriving.

"You heard it?" she reeled at the idea of him hearing her cry out for hours- but being able to do nothing. She felt shocked by the humiliation she felt too.

"You _can _speak English? That's a relief. Are you really the lost bride?"

"I don't know, I can't remember anything." As she spoke she wondered how a person could not realize they could speak another language.

"And the orders?" his voice held no threat but she felt suddenly frightened by the thought that he knew how to control her. "I wouldn't ever dream of using it against you. Just so you know."

She shrunk into the wall and stifled a sob.

"I want to say thank you too. I know you had your own session upstairs- but you're the only reason I'm alive." He said causing her a pause. "If you hadn't shown up- I mean…"

She couldn't speak. It felt impossible.

"I'm sorry for everything you've been through but… thank you."

He peeling his own shirt off then, and tossed it to her. It ripped and soaked in blood, but it was better then nothing. The feeling of being clothed made her feel slightly better about her situation.

"My names Bilius by the way, Bilius Weasley. Some days I'd like to forget parts of my life. Like what happened a few hours ago for starters, or having to listen to what they did to you. Maybe it's a good thing for now you can't remember- maybe your getting a chance at smaller more tolerable way of dealing with something further."

She didn't answer but he rattled on- seeming to take comfort in her presence as much as she was taking in his. She wished she had the strength to listen but just then sleep took her.

**An: Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **

**Thanks for the new follows, and favs! Also- thanks LittleRedSiren3101 for giving me my first review for this story ****J****! I was happy as a Blakeley watching someone die a slow death when I received it!**

**For everyone who might be wondering; Bilius Weasley is a cannon character I pulled from Harry Potter Wiki. (I love working in cannon's to my stories). It's unknown whether he is Molly or Arthurs Brother. I am writing him as the latter. Fred & George refer to him once in a fondness, saying that he had a trick he did at party which amounted to pulling a full flower bouquet from his ass. I figure anyone wanting to do that for a crowd of mostly family is either drunk or on another drug… or otherwise eccentric to the point of slightly addled?**

**Not to worry though, Bilius is not the Weasley love interest I referred to in earlier chapters. He will play his part in this story though. **

**Anyways, shoot me questions, and or reviews but I clean up as I go. Tempus fugit I have gotten to be more picky in editing which I think is the other half of my hold up. I am really close to an update there as well though.**

**Thanks again for reading! Luna Lovegoss**

**Unplotted: Blakeley & Poe: Brinkely Blakeley's Manor: Formerly known as Blakeley & Poe's: The Old School House: July 13****th****,1977. 10:30 am.**

Brinkley had slept like a king. The day prior had been one for the books, a true spectacle!

The curse on their family had confined them to the grounds quite permanently.

So Brinkley had come to depend on these random excites.

Those rare days when people passed unknowingly through the outer bounds of their wards only to find themselves ensnared and trapped – that is what he'd come to live for!

The odd trio had come through the outer ward just after noon. The details made no difference to Brinkley – however it would have been difficult to excuse the plain and obvious evidence that one of three wizards held nearly all of the injuries.

Confinement had created this practice of warding. The system of an outer ward and an inner ward, allowed them their privacy as well as their entertainment. The inner ward was only penetrable by Blakeley or Poe blood.

In years past, the grounds had been most notably a school for the purest of pure, catering exclusively to primary students, and then to finishing school students. The latter of course was a school for pureblooded ladies- and they specialized in breaking the less disciplined of the lot.

It was comical really, that the obvious low man was the one left alive now. He'd been so hideously beaten when they'd come upon the group. In truth the only reason they hadn't killed him was because he cried the most pitifully.

It wasn't _nearly_ so enjoyable to torture a brave man. When they _cried_ though, when they _screamed_ in agony- oh- did it send a thrill right through him! The buzz after a kill like that was enough to keep him contented for nearly a week!

Brinkley had killed the first rather swiftly. So fast he'd regretted it instantly. Bowan had taken his time with the other. His slow and drawn out style of execution was perfectly wicked, and almost sensual… it was something Brinkley greatly admired in about brother.

They'd shared in torturing the third, whom was still alive at present, (he thought with a smirk), and would soon be well enough soon to allow for more entertainment for days maybe.

The fun hadn't stopped there, though. Last, but certainly not least, there had been the excitement of finding _the bride_.

When his father had given Brinkley his clearance, he'd shown them all what a women could do for a man! He'd made her dance for him, made her rub herself against him as though nothing more existed in the world save the thoughts of pleasing him.

He'd rewarded her of course, with the privilege of sucking his cock. He grinned at the memory, her on her knees on the floor between his legs- treating him like royalty as she licked and sucked exactly as he instructed.

His father had looked on in jealousy, but there were some things even potions couldn't fix.

When he'd nearly nutted he'd bent her over a table and spanked her until her ass was red with his handprints, then he's asked… no perhaps under the circumstances, he'd demanded her come and ride him where he sat.

Her legs didn't quite fit around his, nor the chair but he hadn't helped- he'd made her work for it- made her tell him in front of all of the others how much she wanted him inside her. Blakeley sighed contentedly. Woman existed for one sole reason in his book- making babies, and pleasing his cock.

It was unfortunate they came across women so rarely.

Naked, he stretched out in a kingly manner in his solid four-post bed. His royal blue silk sheets the very finest Paris had to offer. He shook his head in disbelief. He might actually get to see Paris now if the old mans words had any truth to them. It all felt like a dream still. His stomach flipped in anticipation at the mere thought.

He sat up suddenly thinking of his brother. Nearly every visitor they got were men, a solid 90%. The amount of women he'd met outside of his own mother and the wrinkled old spinster that Poe had called mother, could be counted on both hands- and yet there were thousands of them outside their grounds. Millions even! Just out of his reach!

He flipped back the covers, and kicked out his muscular legs- admiring them as he did. He was handsome, and he knew it. He was also the charismatic one when it came to him and his brother. He was the one who lured their prey from the outer circle into the inner circle.

He hoped his brother hadn't killed the girl. It was strange though- it just seemed so unreal that part of him felt impartial to the thought of her being dead. He wondered what condition she'd be in when he found her. Wonder how his father and Poe would react.

Truly he couldn't fault Bowan. He had been under the same conditions since youth. There was also the fact that Brides were buried for a reason. A disobedient woman was only any good if she was dead.

Brinkley dressed quickly, took up his breakfast sandwich and coffee from the elf, without a thanks, and left out his back door towards his brothers.

**Unplotted: Blakeley & Poe: Home of Bowan Blakeley : Formerly known as Blakeley & Poe's: House of the Dead : July 13****th****,1977. 11:30 am. / Hera Blakeley**

Hera blinked against the light. Her head hurt, and even if she was surrounded by the dead- it had almost been better laying it off in the dark then being dragged up my magic into the drawing room she'd been taken in the evening before.

"See. Not dead." Bowan said offhanded. He was wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging silk pants. He was chewing on what she hoped was a very large turkey leg. He spit when he talked.

His brother was easier on the eyes though she hadn't been able to meet either of their eyes yet, and she hoped they'd leave out the Tu-Jur-Pur's.

Standing wasn't a thing she was doing at this point in her recovery so she was left under spell suspended in mid air, and her tangle of curls splayed out around her like she was underwater.

Bilius's shirt was torn from her with another spell and she was rotated like a display as they stood watching dispassionately.

Brinkley reached forward and poked at one of Bowan's bites and she sucked in her breath. Bowan choked on his meat through a laugh. "Did you see her face!"

Brinkley sighed. "She'll need some bruise paste on her face in the very least." Then he turned to look at his brother. "What did she taste like? Her blood I mean?"

Bowan shrugged, "A bit strange- felt off this morning actually but I'm not often up that late."

Brinkley crossed his arms and dropped his head to the side- "are you still all there girl?"

Hera wanted to pretend she wasn't, instead she just pretended she didn't speak English.

"Are you talking to me?" She said innocently in French.

Bilius in all of his rambling in the earlier hours had pointed out- pretending she wasn't able to understand English could accomplish two things. One, prevent them from worries of the pair of prisoners plotting together if left alone. Two, give her one precious secret- since she had nothing for herself alone save that one small lie.

He'd been right, it did give her something- even if it was only a small freckle of good. She'd tell him if she saw him again.

"Well at least we won't need to watch what we say," Bowan said believing the lie without a doubt. She'd heard the elder pair talking the night before as though she was dumb- believing too she didn't understand them.

While she might not be able to remember anything at present about her former life, she was picking up enough for her to create a path of her life through their clues and her own logic.

"Where's her dress?" Brinkley asked Bowan.

"All over, or it was. Suppose the elf got rid of it."

"Plunk!" Brinkley snapped loudly, and a loud crack a small and very aged creature slunk forward wearing a red velvet sack. "Find the girl a dress- and see to it she's washed, and her wounds are closed before you stick her back in the hole."

"Yes, master." The creature croaked out.

"Oh, and Plunk- I said closed- not healed." Brinkley added whilst spinning to look on her again, hand reaching out to hold one bared breast in his hand, he pinched her nipple until he heard her gasp. "I want her to understand the consequences of stepping out of line."

The elf left with a crack. Alone with the monsters again, Hera couldn't help her cheeks from burning and he moved forward and caught her sharply at the chin.

"I'm _almost_ inclined to believe you understand me," he said in English.

"Please don't stick me back in the hole," she said at pitifully as possible, and in French. "I swear- I'll do anything you want."

"I don't need your word- I just need to say _the words_." He responded laughingly in French.

Again her cheeks burnt. Brinkley let go of her chin, and she dropped her gaze to the floorboards, and wondered if Bilius was listening.

"I'm off to see father." Brinkley said at last turning to leave then spinning on the spot. "No touching until after Father, and Poe have called upon her again. I want her half decent. Understood?"

"You ruin all the fun brother."

"Oh- eyes on the prize brother. Think of all the woman we'll meet in good time. Think how sweet they will taste, and think of how you won't need them alive like this one."

Bowans laughter chilled Hera to the bones. The Elf, Plunk returning with a crack- dress in hand, thankfully set both men into motion.

"Get dressed and meet me at Poe's- if I'm not mistaken I saw Father headed that way on my way here. I want to hear the plan."

Brinkley left then, and Bowan instructed Plunk to stow her back in the hole for safe keeping when he was finished with her.

As soon as they left the room she felt her gut unclench. She was alive- and going back to the only nice person she knew at present. Even if it was to a dark hole ensconced in death.

The Elf was quick, and sure not to speak to her – though she had pleaded with it rightfully in French to help her. Dressed in a simple gown she was placed back into the dark- and Bilius's shirt was returned to him before the elf left with another loud pop.

**Unplotted: Blakeley & Poe: "The Hole": Under the Home of Bowan Blakeley : Formerly known as Blakeley & Poe's: House of the Dead : Pit of the Dead: July 13****th****,1977. Noon / Bilius Weasley**

Bilius had been in the dark for over 24 hours now.

He hadn't been fully awake (nor had his eyes adjusted in the time to see her in the spotlight provided by the latch atop opening for the extraction of Hera by the Blakeley's that morning.

He had heard them speaking about her though, and it made his blood boil just thinking about it. The way they'd spoken about her as though she was nothing but a mere commodity, something to deal, and trade, and _use_.

He was awake and aware of her return however. The elf hadn't rushed it like the former. Bilius had seen Hera seated, and had watched as the elf had given her something to eat and drink too, before leaving through the latch and submerging them into darkness again.

She was now dressed in a gown well suited for the 1800's. Pure white, it had long sleeves and reached to her ankles, and allowed only an inch of neck to show. It was a stark contrast to last nights naked. Though he hadn't been well enough to take notice of much save the fact of her undress.

Even in the gown however, he could still see how emaciated she was. This was the principal reason for the feeling of shame he felt when she offered him half of the food and water she'd been given.

"I can't," he refused though he was thirsty as hell, and his stomach rumbled loudly enough for both of them to hear.

"Should I share it with them then?" She asked off handedly. He laughed- caught off guard by her humor.

"By the looks of you- you need every bit of it." She ignored his observation fully. "Last night I had nothing and you gave me half of what you had."

He licked his lips. "Oh all right -twist my arm why don't you!" He inched along grimacing as he did- sure his right leg was broken- and most of his ribs. Then carefully he slid down the wall a careful distance from her so not to scare her.

She tore the bread in half and gave him his portion. Then she set the water jug between them. He was glad they hadn't been given more then bread- because it would have been hard eating meat with the smell and the company.

"I'm thinking of becoming a vegetarian if I ever escape this," he said conversationally.

Her laugh wasn't much more then a breath leaving her in a hurry, but it was enough to encourage him, and he hazarded another look at her. Having sustained more then one hit to the head the day before he'd assumed he was seeing things but her eyes glowed nearly bright as the band on her finger.

"Your eyes glow in the dark- did you know?"

"No."

"Of course not," he said feeling like he'd put his foot in his mouth, "dumb question to ask given the circumstances I suppose, I just…"

"What color are they?" She interrupted and he was glad for he'd been horrified of his own ramblings.

"Well it's not like I've seen you in the light properly but down here they are sort of amber-ish… you're not part werewolf are you?" He laughed. Though in his head he shrugged it off fast as the thought had come. More then they were likely an indication of excessive spell damage- the two were often confused in health care. "Though if it's got to be said- I'd prefer to be eaten by you, if it had to be anyone in this room."

Her laugh was small at first, than it grew. "It hurts"- she gasped out.

It hurt to grin, but grin he did. "Sorry it's sort of morbid of me."

"No, don't. It's a hell of a lot better then thinking about what they are plotting to do with me out in the real world." He was already finished his bread hunk now and he was now damning his own desire for more. She was tearing hers piece by piece by the sound of it.

"What did you mean last night when you said you deserved to be here? How could anyone deserve _this_?"

Bilius debated lying to her for the briefest of moments. What would it matter either way though? She'd been through hell too- the least he could do was to give her the truth- even if it was awful.

"I'm sort of ashamed to say it out loud."

He heard her drinking from the jug and felt her nudge it towards him. He took it gratefully- he was already suffering the effects of alcoholic withdraws and he could have downed it all if he knew she didn't need it.

"I've been a shitty person. Weak. Careless."

"Off with your head."

He smiled and set his head back on the wall then let out a sigh.

"I gambled and drank so much I worked up a debt. Then I stole from my friends and my family and lost that too."

"So you aren't a cold hearted killer who tortures people for fun?"

"No- _I suppose I'm not the worst kind of person_\- but…" he listened to her taking another drink, then accepted it back for his own turn. "But I lost everything- and everyone for no good reason. I'm not even entirely sure at this point if anyone will notice or even care if I don't show back up."

"Don't say that." She said reaching out and taking hold of his hand. The gesture surprised him given what she'd endured. Something in her energy moved him to continue.

"It's true."

"Well. I'd miss you if you were dead."

"Well you've got incredibly high standards at present."

She laughed softly again.

"You know- you're lucky even if he's dead."

"Him?" she said talking her hand from his and holding it out before them in the dark.

"Yes- Him." He said sighing- thinking about, _the her,_ he'd so foolishly let get away. "My families a bit known for using that spell- even if it is dated… my brother actually has an active band with his wife. Albeit they don't advertise it- they keep it hidden under real bands… it's considered dark magic after all. I only know about it because… I bound them myself- back when I was… sober… back when I gave a shit."

She reached out to grip his hand again as though willing him to keep on confessing, giving him a shot at closure.

"That spell won't work if the love that exists isn't true- in equal measures on both parts. It won't work- not even if you preform it right- if it's false."

"I feel like I'm missing something big, like a leg or half my heart." She confessed.

He nodded. Relieved she was in a different time. Relieved that maybe she'd have another shot. She seemed a good sort- even if her blood was undiluted Blakeley.

They held hand like that a long while- in the dark. A strange peace in the silence and the gentle touch of her safe there beside him.

He'd get her out of this hellhole or he'd die trying- of that he was certain.

**AN:**

**Hope you enjoyed! Goodnight!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:**

**I'm going to start peppering in my other principal characters now, and I'm likely going to combine a couple chapters to clean up. Also I've started adding to my authors section to outline my characters (cannon and new), spells and magic's that aren't in the original universe to aid with any confusion. I should have Tempest Delivered facts up by next update.**

**Thanks everyone who looked into Tempus Fugit- I totally get we are dealing with a totally different Hermione at that point- so I'm not offended if you don't get into it right away. Crouch will be a huge character through out my stories, as well as Phineas Nigellus, and Fleamont Potter, though- so it might be helpful to skim through.**

**Thanks! Luna**

**Narcissa Black: Office of Black- Family Estates- Diagon Alley : July 16****th**** 1977\. **

Narcissa Black, tapped her index fingernail with her wand and watched it change color from red to emerald green. Her head was cocked to the side and her mouth slightly agape. She was already seated at her place at the front desk in the front of her Uncles office when he arrived by Floo that morning.

"Leaky Tuesday?" Her Uncle asked slyly, eying her immaculate Purple Robes with raised brows.

_Lucius Leaky Tuesday_ was what she referred to the day as to in her mind, and it was because Lucius Malfoy ate lunch at the Leaky every Tuesday afternoon promptly at noon.

Perhaps he did this out of habit, or perhaps he'd done it on purpose when he'd noticed her there a couple of Tuesdays in a row. Whatever the reason- Tuesdays were Narcissa's favorite day of the week, and for that same reason she'd circled each Tuesday on her calendar with a heart and had written _Leaky Tuesday / Noon_ by each and every Tuesday.

Narcissa was the last of her sisters to work for her Uncle Alphard after graduating Hogwarts, though many of her cousins had worked for him as well at this point. Though Uncle Alphy made regular announcements that she would be the last, no exceptions- she assumed at some point Regulus would also take a turn before he finally retired.

The office was located in Diagon Alley, and being in the City daily allowed the Black offspring to brush elbows with the finest in society. Andromedea, her eldest sister, had taken to his office best, ending up in Law herself. Andie had taken up Muggleborn defense- and met her husband whom had ultimately gotten her expelled from the family a year prior for married a Mudblood and defending blood-traitors.

Bella had secured a marriage through Uncle Alphies office too, with a Lestrange boy, and now Narcissa, "was pinning after a marriage _the Malfoy Boy_", as her mother put it.

The Malfoy's had been very selective in finding a wife for Lucius though- and while she was considered a catch by most- no amount of elbow rubbing had convinced the family to settle him into a contract before he finished his furthering education- Attorney like his father.

As it were Abraxas Malfoy owned the law office directly across the Alley from her Uncles. Of course they specialized in different aspects of the law.

"Set the shop sign back to closed until Noon- I have a rather high profile Client coming in this morning."

Narcissa pivoted in curiosity, "High profile?"

Her uncle, now standing with a coffee cup in hand looked at her seriously, "Have you heard of the Blakeley's?"

"As in Blakeley & Poe? Who hasn't?" Came her quick reply, her nails now forgotten (Though not exactly all the same color now.)

"The eldest, Cadmus Blakeley is planning on stopping in… with his sons _and daughter_."

_"Daughter?" _Narcissa sat up, stock still- riveted by the news. She'd not heard of a daughter, though the two sons she knew to be still on the market despite their ages, 40 and 45.

"If I understand correctly she is 17 and they are looking to forge a marriage contract." Her uncle supplied.

"17," Narcissa repeated. "But she never attended Hogwarts."

"Homeschooled I'd imagine- you know how the family is."

Narcissa nodded- deep in thought. "Well… have they got someone in mind?" Her fears of loosing Lucius paramount in her mind. A female Blakeley would come with a sizable inheritance- not to mention their blood was unmatched and known to be pure as it came.

"Me actually."

Narcissa nearly fell from her chair then! Her brows she was sure were lost in her bangs as she stared at him incredulous. "But Uncle- she's…"

Alphard flushed, and he took a sip of Coffee. "It's a high compliment."

"Yes but she's so… young for you – I didn't even know you still fancied yourself on the market?" Narcissa chewed her tongue then- she couldn't hold back once she got started, and now she worried after her uncle's reaction.

"Having an actual heir has its appeals you know."

"An heir?" she gapped. Even though her Uncle was a great man- undoubtedly- he was still nearing 70! The poor girl- subjected to him for an heir? The sheer thought of it all made her skin crawl.

Her uncles hand found his brow and he pinched it. "It seems there is a family curse involved."

"_What did they do_?"

"_What did we do_\- is more like it from what they've relayed- it seems to be a rather large issue."

"Who?" Narcissa rasped out, "_not Bella surely_?"

"Bella?" Alphard chuckled. "No- this is an old Curse- try _Rigel Black the 1__st_."

_"The 1__st_," she frowned. "Surely your mistaken- that would be last millennium at least."

"At least," Her uncle said. "Yes- as I said before- it's an old curse."

"How does the girl play into it?"

"The _girl_ isn't Cadmus's."

Narcissa threw her hands out to the side and let out an exasperated moan of suspense. "You can't stop with that!"

Uncle Alphy smirked as he delivered the facts, "the girl is from the past!"

"NO!" Narcissa shouted back standing up in the process.

"Yes"- he said grimly now. "Thus she's holding seniority too- wards are under her own powers though she's not yet become aware- still addled."

"From the time travel… I can only imagine!"

"No-" her uncle said looking relieved to be talking about it all. "She's quite recovered in that aspect it seems- it's more to do with the fact that… she was tampered with?"

"NO!" Narcissa shouted then covered her mouth in shock of her own reaction. "It's not possible!"

"It appears… it is- and she's returned."

**OoO**

Narcissa had the office sparkling before they arrived by Floo. What a day! What an unusual, and eventful day! Blakeley's out of their grounds… Blakeley's Flooing to their office… Blakeley's propositioning her crusty old Uncle for an Heir! She paced around the front room unable to think of anything else!

In her pristine purple robes she had all but forgotten her nails. Eight of which were scarlet red, one of which was now emerald green, and one that was purple to match her robes exactly.

When the fire lit into action she actually shouted in her excitement, "incoming!"

Her uncle gave her a look of incredibility and held a finger to his lips to quiet her from anything further.

As the grate lit up the first, whom she assumed was Cadmus Blakeley stepped out. He was close in age to her Uncle- but still had a whole head of hair. Dark Curls spilling out in all directions though chopped off to rest at his shoulders. His face was well lined and his complexion tanned as though he spent a good deal of time outdoors.

"Mr. Blakely its such a pleasure to meet you." Her Uncle said striding forward to shake his hand. As he did the grate lit up again. This time two people walked out, One of the brothers, and under his firm grip a much younger, much smaller version of the family, the Sister and her Uncles soon to be Fiancée."

Bowan Blakeley was muscular and stout like a tree. There was no escaping either his eyes or his hands (the size of dinner plates!). He had dark curled hair like his father, and whiskey brown eyes like his sister that seized her immediately and left her hair on end and skin in goosebumps. Something about that look horrified her, and she shrunk from her place to stand out of the mans sight and in her uncles shadow.

The girl was a mite of a thing. Young, scrawny, and sporting a bruised cheek and cut lip. Her dress was radically dated, though so intricate in design it must have cost a fortune. She had a rather startled way about her as though she was mentally too far-gone to contemplate reality- or maybe just perhaps her new reality. A casualty of time travel maybe?

Finally the grate fired up and emitted the elder brother. Roguishly handsome with the same mop of hair- he however had fetching sage green eyes and a smile that found her almost immediately. Narcissa flushed at his attentions.

"Tea? Coffee?" Uncle Alphie offered.

"Whiskey?" Bowan pressed.

"Of course! Narcissa if you will?" Narcissa suddenly cursed her wardrobe choice for the the day. What had been meant to attract a certain Malfoy boy had also reached the notice of all 3 Blakeley males and she was relieved to need to run to her uncles home via the floo to collect the requested beverage.

"Shall we find our seats?" Her uncle gestured eyes lingering on the girl in a pitying fashion. Narcissa waited until they were into her uncles office before making her way to the grate to comply. This was suddenly less exciting an ordeal then she was expecting, but she'd be owling her sister Bella soon as she was done that day- that was for sure!

**AN: Thanks! More soon!**


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